Revelations
by ONEofTWOofAkind
Summary: COMPLETE. Set in the future. Jacqueline is haunted by a secret from her past, and is now recieving anonymous mail. She must go meet the man she used to love, and unburden her soul. But he has a few revelations of his own...


Revelations  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the original characters of Young Americans, not even Jake and Hamilton – however much I dream about it. The children are my own creation, along with Lisa, the nurse, and Elliott.  
  
Many thanks to Gis for reading this over and giving me very helpful suggestions – you're a star! :)

. . . . . .

I KNOW WHAT YOU DID.  
  
Jacqueline stared at the piece of card, turning it over and over in her long fingers. That was all it said. The card itself was nondescript, just a plain white card, and the writing had been carefully written in regular black script. The envelope was equally unhelpful, plain white to match the card. "Mrs. J. D. Jenkins" it said on the front. No stamp. It was obviously hand delivered.  
  
Jacqueline couldn't understand it. What had she done? More to the point, who had sent this to tell her that they knew about this action?  
  
A cry from the next room startled her from her thoughts. Sighing, she put the card back on the counter and went to attend to her daughter.

. . . . . .

"Elliott!" Jacqueline cried with a smile, as her dark-haired husband entered the house. Rising from the comfortable white sofa, she went over to give him a kiss and take his briefcase. "How was your day?"  
  
"It was fine." he said, responding warmly to the kiss. "Where are the girls?"  
  
"Denise is asleep, I just got her down. The twins have gone to their friend Anna's house, but will be home in half an hour for dinner."  
  
Elliott smiled. "Efficient as ever. Did anything interesting happen today?" he asked, running slender fingers through dark shaggy hair as his wife took his long overcoat and went to hang it up. Jacqueline was still on maternity leave after giving birth to Denise a few weeks ago, so he doubted the day's events would hold much appeal for anyone, let alone him. He smiled at her, his brown eyes shining with love.  
  
Jacqueline hesitated, much to his surprise. "Well..." she started, "I got some mail..."

. . . . . .

He studied it earnestly, running his eyes and fingers over every corner while sitting at the expansive dining table. After some time, he cleared his throat.  
  
"Well." he began. "Well. I think it's just a practical joke of some sort. Perhaps one of the twins' friends was put up to it. You know our girls!" he smiled at his little joke. "Besides," he added, taking his wife's hand, "You've never kept anything from anyone, hurt anyone deliberately, never done anything even vaguely illegal. You're a drama teacher, for Christ's sake! That's hardly a crime now is it?" he laughed to himself, and wandered into the kitchen. The matter was obviously dismissed, and not to be spoken about again.  
  
Jacqueline tried to smile, her heart dropping._ Never kept anything from anyone, hurt anyone deliberately, done anything illegal. _Now she knew what this was about. Hamilton.

. . . . . .

YOU CAN'T HIDE FOREVER, BIRTHDAY GIRL.  
  
It arrived two weeks later, the day after her 31st birthday, on the twins 7th birthday. In amongst the scores of cards for "Kirsten Jenkins" and "Bella Jenkins" was another plain white, hand delivered envelope for "Mrs. J. D. Jenkins". Jacqueline opened it, her heart full of dread. She knew what sort of birthday message it would contain. She was touched that he still knew her birthday, surprised that he had discovered her address.  
  
Suddenly she had an idea. Reaching for the phone, she dialled a long string of numbers – not a local call. After a few rings, someone picked up. "Hi," she said, "Can I speak to Bella, please?"

. . . . . .

"Sure I know where he is," Bella's tinny voice said down the phone. Many thousands of miles away in rainy England, her brow creased. "Why?"  
  
"No reason." Jacqueline said lightly after a slight pause, trying to hide how important it was to her.  
  
"Don't give me that!" Bella retorted, "I've known you long enough, I can read you like a book. Even when I'm not there. Now out with it. What's up?"  
  
"I think he knows."  
  
"About what?" now Bella was puzzled.  
  
"I think he knows." Jacqueline repeated. She lowered her voice. "About Lisa."

. . . . . .

Flashback

"Mom! I think it's time!" A wide-eyed, heavily pregnant Jake stumbled down the hall at a little after three in the morning. Monica met her as she came round a corner in her house.  
  
"I've got the bag and buzzed Derek. Let's get to the car." Her brisk manner told Jake that she was nervous at the impending birth of her grandchild, but she put an arm round her only daughter and supported her out to the car where Derek, their chauffeur, was waiting.

. . . . . .

Monica paced up and down the relative's room in the Maternity Unit. Jake had decided not to let her mom in to watch, and she felt helpless and superfluous with nothing to do.  
  
A nurse stuck her head through the door.  
  
"Come meet your granddaughter." she said, smiling, as she opened the door wider and led the way to the delivery room.

. . . . . .

A tired, sweaty Jake turned away.  
  
"No." she said firmly. "I don't want to see her. I already made up my mind."  
  
"But honey..." a protesting Monica exclaimed, holding the wriggling infant in her arms.  
  
"No!" Jake interrupted.  
  
"At least give her name. You can give her away to someone else if you want to, but at least give her something to keep, something from you."  
  
Jake sighed. She really didn't want to have to do this. She thought someone from the adoption agency would be there to take the girl away as soon as she was born. Jake didn't expect all the waiting around, when she could hear the baby crying in a crib across the room.  
  
"OK." she said eventually. "OK, I'll give her a name."  
  
"You think about it, honey, while I go get a nurse to bring in a birth certificate for her." Monica deposited the baby in her crib, and hurried out.  
  
"What can I name her?" Jake spoke out loud, but still avoided looking at the crib. She'd just want to change her mind. "I'll call you..."  
  
A nurse entered, the same one who had spoken to Monica, clutching a clipboard and pen.  
  
"Mother's name?"  
  
"Jacqueline Denise Pratt." That much was easy, Jake thought.  
  
"Father's name?"  
  
"Uhhh...Hamilton Fleming." Jake said quietly, hearing her mother make a noise somewhere between a snort and a sob.  
  
"Name of infant?"  
  
"Lisa." Jake decided eventually. "Lisa Annette Fleming."  
  
End Flashback

. . . . . .

Bella was panicking. Loudly.  
  
"But how can he know? The only person you told was me. And your mom, of course. It's impossible! You must've got it wrong! I didn't even tell Will, and he's been my husband for the last six years, we tell each other everything! No. It can't be from him. It just can't be! I didn't tell anyone, I promise!"  
  
"Bella, calm down! I know you didn't tell anyone. It's OK, I'm not blaming anyone, I'm just telling you that he knows."  
  
"But how can you be sure they're from him?"  
  
"I just do, OK?" Jacqueline wasn't sure how she knew, but an inner feeling told her they were definitely from him. She lowered her voice, hearing the twins coming in from the den. "Just, wait a sec, OK?" she covered the mouthpiece. "Kirsten?" she called to the sandy-haired child entering the kitchen. The girl turned. "Oh, Bella, sorry honey. Anyway, could you stay in the den for a while with your sister? Mommy's making a very important phonecall and needs some privacy. That OK?"  
  
Bella nodded, grabbed a pack of crackers from the counter, and left.  
  
"Sorry Bella, little Bella was just in here." Jacqueline removed her hand and spoke into the phone. "I don't want her to hear and say anything to Elliott."  
  
"I still can't believe you haven't told him. I mean, you've been married to him for almost a decade."  
  
"Some things are hard to tell. He knows that I wasn't a virgin when he married me, is it really necessary to tell him I had a child with another man when I was 16 and had it adopted?"  
  
"Her." Bella said quietly. "It was a girl. Lisa."  
  
"I know." Jacqueline replied patiently. "But it's easier if I don't think of her as a person. She's not part of my life. And I haven't told Elliott because he doesn't need to know about the mistakes I made as teenager."  
  
"What was the mistake?"  
  
"What?!?! Bella! You know exactly what happened, you're the only one who does. How can you ask that?"  
  
"What was the mistake?" Bella asked again, determined to get the honest answer from her friend.  
  
"I don't know what you mean." came the cold reply.  
  
"Jacqueline Denise Jenkins! What was the mistake? Having the baby, leaving Hamilton, giving up the baby? Any or all of the above?"  
  
There was a long silence from the other end of the phone, as Jacqueline sat on the sofa, tears rolling silently down her cheeks.

. . . . . .

Flashback

"I have to go." The pain was evident in Jake's eyes, as they told a different story from her lips. "It's just too...I have to go."  
  
Hamilton Fleming stood motionless at the door of his home, his deep blue eyes burning holes in the green ones of his girlfriend, his lover, his best friend.  
  
She turned to leave, but he whipped out a hand with more speed than he thought he possessed and grabbed her slim wrist.  
  
Jake stopped mid-turn and tried to struggle free of his vice-like grip.  
  
"Hamilton!" she cried, "Hamilton you're hurting me!"  
  
"You're lying." He spoke as if they were casually discussing the weather, but his eyes betrayed his hard-set face. "You won't leave. I know you. Why would you leave? I'm here. You love me. You love it here. Why would you leave?"  
  
He continued muttering to himself, still holding Jake's tiny wrist. She could feel the skin beginning to darken where his fingers lay – she always bruised easily, even as a child. She stopped struggling and leaned closer to listen to the almost inaudible mumblings of her now-exboyfriend.  
  
"Hamilton?" she said softly, trying to look into his eyes, "Hamilton, you're scaring me."  
  
Hamilton lifted his head and gazed back at her, still talking quietly. Suddenly he reached up with his free hand and slapped Jake round the face. Hard.  
  
"Bitch." he said bitterly, finally letting go of her wrist. "Fine. Go. Leave me. You'll only end up regretting it."  
  
He pushed her away from him, shot her one last malevolent glare, turned and slammed the door behind him.  
  
Jake stood there in shock, tears dripping down her face. She raised her painful wrist to her cheek, feeling the heat of the stinging slap Hamilton had delivered. Turning tail, she ran as fast as she could to the lake. The evening light faded before her as she sat on the cold dock, knees drawn protectively up to her chin. She never knew how long she sat there – minutes? Hours? Her wrist swelled, blackened, and faded to a painful purple along with a dull ache. All the while Jake sat, still, thinking about Hamilton. If he reacted like this to a break-up, imagine how he'd react to the news of a child! She wasn't sure if she had made the right decision. He was definitely right about one thing – she was definitely going to regret this...  
  
End Flashback

. . . . . .

Jacqueline carefully placed the phone back into its cradle. What did she regret? Having the baby? Partly. It took a large chunk out of her education, her time, and even her self-confidence. Did she regret giving the child up? Not really. It was better this way, she had no "baggage" As her mother called it, and she's managed to spend the rest of her teenage years as normally as possible. So did she regret leaving Hamilton? Hell yes! Jacqueline could never forgive herself for giving up on her first love. Who knows how he would have reacted, if he'd been given the time to come to terms with it. She was happy now, sure. But she kind of had to be, with a husband and three daughters. Maybe if she'd...  
  
Jacqueline mentally shook herself. This is no time for daydreaming about what the present could have been like, she told herself sharply.  
  
Sighing again, she tucked the card under her mattress with the other one.

. . . . . .

I KNOW WHAT YOU DID.  
  
This one was identical to the first card, and arrived a few weeks after its predecessor.  
  
_Right_, Jacqueline thought, _I've had enough of this_. She grabbed the phone, dialled Bella's number again. This time, Will picked up.  
  
"Hey Jake!" he exclaimed happily. "Long time no...talk. How are the kids?"  
  
After exchanging a few pleasantries, Jacqueline got straight to the matter she wanted to discuss. Did Will know where Hamilton was living? She knew Will was in England, but she presumed he still contacted his New Rawley friends?  
  
He was shocked. She could hear it in his voice. "Has Bella never told you?" he asked tentatively. "I was sure you knew..."  
  
"Knew what? Will! Knew what?" This did not sound good.  
  
"About Hamilton." Will was whispering now, afraid that the power of his voice could break a heart on the other side of the world.  
  
"What about Hamilton?" Jacqueline asked, feeling dread creep down her throat and settle heavily at the bottom of her stomach.

. . . . . .

She'd told Elliott she going to buy some groceries – they'd run out of orange juice and jelly. Jacqueline knew this because she'd finished them off that morning, as an excuse to leave the house. She carefully took her purse, and drove to the store first to pick up the things she needed. That way, when she forgot them afterwards, as she knew she would, she wouldn't have to invent yet another cover-up story.  
  
It wasn't a long drive to her destination. _To think_, she mused, _he's been living just two towns over, and I never even knew_! The town of Amboy was only eight miles away from Camberley, where her own family lived in their large, spacious house.  
  
The front of this building looked nice enough, if a little shabby. The paint on the green door was peeling, and one of the windows was taped up with cardboard where it had been broken.  
  
Jacqueline rang the bell, feeling apprehensive. A short lady, about the same age as Jacqueline, opened the door. She was dressed in a green nurse's uniform, with "Amboy Infirmary" embroidered onto the front.  
  
"Can I help you?" she asked, smiling but looking a little puzzled.  
  
"I've come to see..." Jacqueline trailed off, feeling out of place in her smart suit.  
  
"I'm sorry, visiting hours are over for today. Was somebody expecting you?"  
  
Jacqueline stepped back, stammering. "I'm sorry," she said, "No no, I was just, that is, I..."  
  
The nurse smiled at the obviously distressed woman. "Come in. we already have one after hours visitor here, I'm sure another won't hurt for tonight."  
  
She opened the door wider so Jacqueline could enter, then shut it behind her. "What's your name? You'll need to sign the log." Jacqueline was given a green clipboard and a pen, and signed "Jacqueline D. Jenkins" in scrawled handwriting, while she examined the interior of the building. It was gloomy in here, but she could just make out that the walls were green.  
  
"And who are you coming to see?" the cheery nurse asked, taking back the clipboard and preparing to write another name next to Jacqueline's signature.  
  
"Hamilton. Hamilton Fleming."  
  
The nurse smiled. "That'll make him feel lucky." she remarked, filling in the log. "Two visitors in one day."  
  
Jacqueline looked up, slightly puzzled. "Is there someone already there?" she asked, panicking. "I can come back another day, it's no trouble, really."  
  
"You may as well come now, you've already signed the book after all. I'm Leanne, by the way. I'll show you to his room."  
  
She set off at a brisk pace down the dark corridor, expecting Jacqueline to follow her.

. . . . . .

"Why is he here?" Jacqueline felt obliged to make conversation to fill the long silence, but the only thing she could think about was Hamilton.  
  
"Schizophrenia, mostly. And MPD – that's multiple personality disorder." Leanne explained. "And a variety of other mental problems. He's been in here for years, after the state certified him as mentally unstable. Apparently he was a drug addict for a number of years. Remind me how he knows you?"  
  
Jacqueline eyed the short nurse sharply, knowing she hadn't mentioned it in the first place. "We met at school." she said.  
  
"Really? How nice." Leanne said pleasantly. "Here's his room. I'll just go in first, let him know who you are. He gets nervous round strangers, even ones he knew from school." She entered the room, shutting the door behind her.  
  
Left in the silent hallway, Jacqueline fumbled around in her bag for the three cards he had sent. She hoped she wasn't wrong about them, because there were so many things she didn't want to have to say, and she knew that if she saw him again she needed to let him know the truth.  
  
The door opened again before she had quite prepared herself, and Leanne stuck her head through it.  
  
"Come in." she said cheerfully, "He's waiting for you."

. . . . . .

Jacqueline entered the room, her hands sweating as she held the white cards. The first thing she noticed were the bright green walls, covered in papers of his writing. They all appeared to have the letter "J" on them, in various disguises. Some had her name written outright, either as Jake or Jacqueline. Some just had J, repeated over and over. Others had her name or initials written, then furiously scribbled over with red or black.  
  
The second thing she noticed was Hamilton himself. He was sitting very straight on a wooden chair near the narrow bed. She had to admit it, he looked good. Although not in the most fashionable attire, he oozed cleanliness and charm. He was dressed in a green suit that matched the nurse's uniform, with his dark hair cropped short and a small smile playing on his lips  
  
Sitting on the bed, holding his hand, was a young girl of about 16, who looked vaguely familiar to Jacqueline. She smiled when Jacqueline looked at her, but didn't say anything.  
  
"Hello." Hamilton said. "Hello hello. Hi. Good evening. Hey. Greetings. Nice to meet you. Good to see you. Welcome. Bonjour. Hola. Guten tag." He giggled, startling Jacqueline.  
  
"Hello." she said simply. "How are you?"  
  
He frowned. "How do you think I am?" he replied. "How do I look?"  
  
"Good."  
  
"Then I'm good." He smiled broadly. "How are you?" Hamilton turned to the girl. "How was that? Was that right? Did he do it right?"  
  
She smiled tiredly, patting his arm. "That was fine."  
  
Now it was Jacqueline's turn to frown. She was missing something here. Rather than questioning, she decided to jump right in.  
  
"Why did you send me these?" she asked, thrusting the cards into his hands.  
  
He stared at her for a second, his mouth open, then gazed down at the cards. "Because I know." he said proudly. Again he turned to the girl at his side. "I know, don't I? I told you I knew. I told you she knew. And I told her that I know because she needed to know that I know. And I know. Right?"  
  
After a few seconds unravelling the statement in her head, the girl nodded. "Yes. You know. And now you both know that the other knows."  
  
Jacqueline couldn't shake off the feeling that she knew this girl, but decided to ignore it. "What do you know? You never said." She glanced to her left, where Leanne stood watching.  
  
"I know about her." Hamilton pointed to the girl. Without warning, he reached over to Jacqueline and slapped her, just like he had all those years ago. Leanne rushed over and pushed him back into the chair, while the unnamed girl grabbed his hand again.  
  
Jacqueline reeled backwards with the force from the blow, her hand to her flaming cheek. She remembered how strong he was.  
  
"Who is she? I don't know about her, I don't understand."  
  
"I'm sorry." Hamilton sounded genuinely upset, and looked up at her out of moist eyes. Then his tone grew sharper. "He says he's sorry. But he knows. That's really important."  
  
The girl shook her head, then stood up. Jacqueline noticed how pretty she was, with layered dark hair and grey-blue eyes. Offering her hand, the girl smiled and said, "Hi. I'm Hamilton's daughter. My name's Lisa."

. . . . . .

Jacqueline stood in shock. _Lisa_ she said to herself. _Lisa. Lisa. Lisa._ The name kept running round in her head. "Are you...I mean...are you..."  
  
Hamilton jumped up. "I know! You never told me, but I found out. Someone phoned Rawley, someone from an agency. That was when I could still go outside." he added wistfully.  
  
Jacqueline knew this. Will had told her about this yesterday, about after she left. Hamilton had disappeared, mentally, leaving a broken man, a vacant stare, and lips that wouldn't stop whispering her name. He'd started smoking, taking drugs, hanging around with Ryder and the infamous Joe from town. Soon after her departure, apparently, he'd been reported as missing, then found wandering around the lake clad only in socks. His parents were distraught that their son could be so affected by his "friend" leaving, as Jake's real identity was never revealed to them. As time passed, and Hamilton realised Jake was never going to return to him, he deteriorated and was quickly sectioned under the Mental Health Act. Kept under maximum security, he was seldom allowed to leave the building.  
  
"Who phoned?" she said faintly.  
  
"A lady. He told her that he knew all about everything, so she gave him a message for you." Here was the nastier tone of voice again. "She said that they hadn't found a place for Lisa yet, and did you want to take her back. He said he was the father, and he'd come and get her."  
  
Lisa stood next to her father, one arm protectively slung over his shoulders. "He took me back to his parents, told them I was his daughter. They looked after me, made me come visit him every week. I'm sixteen now. I'm allowed to come by myself." She bent down and picked up the cards Jacqueline had dropped after being slapped, then turned reproachfully to her father. "I did _not_ know about these, however."  
  
Hamilton giggled again. "I sent them to let her know that I know. I gave them to Ruaridh, he's my friend. He's still allowed outside, he walked all the way over to her house and put them through her letterbox."  
  
Jacqueline raised a hand to her forehead and massaged her temples. She felt hot, and had a headache. But she knew what she had to do.  
  
"Hamilton, I had a baby. This is my baby. She's yours. I didn't want you to know, because I wasn't sure what you'd do. I don't know if you understand, but I need you to know I'm sorry. I was 16 and confused. I gave her away."  
  
She turned to Lisa. "Lisa, I'm sorry. The only thing I ever gave you was your name. I am your mother, and I gave you up because I wasn't sure what I wanted."  
  
Kneeling on the floor, Jacqueline turned again to Hamilton. "I know I should have told you." She could feel the tears coming now, sliding down her face. "I know I made you change. I know I should have done many things, and I did many different things. I know a lot of things now, and my main one is this: I do regret leaving you. I regret never telling you about your daughter, because maybe if you'd heard it from me before all this then things would be different. I'm sorry I let our relationship become too dependent on us both. And I'm sorry that I have to go."  
  
She saw the look of confusion cross his face. "Go?" he said quietly. "Go? But you're supposed to say you're sorry, you love me, let's get married and live happily ever after! You can't go! You went away before."  
  
"I have to go away again. I already have a husband, three daughters, a family. I can't have another husband or lover, or even another daughter." She retrieved the cards from Lisa's trembling hands. "I know that you know now, OK? So you can stop. There's nothing else I have to know. There's nothing else I didn't tell you, and nothing else I want to hear from you. I can't do this."  
  
She stepped out of the room. Behind her, she could hear Hamilton start to sob and scream, and Leanne and Lisa try to comfort him.

. . . . . .

It was dark when she got back home. She walked into the house in a daze, clutching the brown paper bag with her earlier purchases in. Elliott stared at her incredulously as she entered the living room.  
  
"Where on earth have you been? Honey?"  
  
Jacqueline dropped the bag on the sofa. _This has gone on long enough_, she told herself, _it's time to come clean. I can't lose anything, if he loves me the way I think he does._  
  
"Elliott." She began, taking a deep breath. "Elliott, we need to talk..."

THE END


End file.
